


Hi, I'm Dingo

by verfound



Series: The Dingo Files: Tales of an Australian Dumbass [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Crack, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, Light crack, My Dumbass Son, Scottish Luka, Sorry Not Sorry, oh God I've become one of THOSE ficcers, the Dingo Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22958518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound
Summary: Luka is sick, and his friends are just trying to make sure he’s ok.  (Or: the first time Marinette actually met Dingo King.)
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: The Dingo Files: Tales of an Australian Dumbass [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649851
Comments: 23
Kudos: 226
Collections: Crikey!  A Wild Dingo has Appeared!





	Hi, I'm Dingo

**Author's Note:**

> I BSed this in the hour before my last class started Thursday night because I’m officially one of those writers who lets her OCs do whatever the hell they want. I’ve stopped fighting Dingo. (Or: “Oh God what has my dumbass son done now?”)

It was a bright, sunny afternoon in the city of Paris. Along the Seine, two teenagers – a boy with a bright, lime green mohawk and a girl with straight brown hair that reached mid-back – were standing outside the madhouseboat known as the _Liberty_.

“Dingo,” Brielle said firmly, glancing at her friend, “I need you to repeat what I just said.”

Dingo rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. She couldn’t see his eyes behind his shades, but the set of his face let her know he was glaring, and she knew it was directed at her, even if he was staring up at the boat their mutual friend called home. She would even go as far as to say he was pouting, because Dingo was nothing but a five-year-old in a seventeen-year-old’s body. Which, really, was exactly why she needed to confirm he had heard (and understood) what she had just said.

“This is not a social call,” he said after a moment. “If Luka’s up for it, we can stay. If he’s not, then we’re putting the soup in the fridge and leaving immediately. I am to be on my best behavior because Luka is sick and I am _too much_ on my best days. Also if he is still in bed we are leaving and going on a date.”

“…good,” Brielle said, nodding. “Most of that was correct. I could eat, but it is _not_ a date, Ding.”

“You’ll say yes eventually,” Dingo said with a grin. She rolled her eyes as he hopped up to the steps at the edge of the dock, where the gangway usually connected. It had been pulled in for the day. He cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted. “Oi! Jules! Let us in, baby girl!”

After a prolonged moment of silence and no movement from the deck, Brielle pulled out her phone and texted Luka. She sighed when he replied.

“Juleka’s not home yet,” she said. She frowned when another message came through. “…he’ll be up in a minute to let us in.”

“Nah, tell him he’s good,” Dingo said, and the next thing Brielle knew he was taking a running leap for the ship. Her eyes blew wide as she watched him catch the gate and land on the retracted plank on the other side. He stood and lifted his shades, tossing her a wink. “What? You really think this is the first time I’ve broken onto the boat?”

“I think it’s more likely you had a pissing contest with Luka when you were bored,” she deadpanned. She gestured to the steps. “Well? Let me in.”

It took longer than it would have taken Luka, as Dingo hadn’t grown up maneuvering the gangway, but it wasn’t long before Brielle was stepping down onto the deck and following Dingo to the living quarters below. Luka was still in his room, so Brielle sent Dingo to check on him while she took the soup to the microwave to warm. She shot him one last warning _behave!_ before he rapped his knuckles against the door and poked his head inside Luka and Juleka’s cabin.

“Knock, knock!” Dingo said cheerily, grinning as he scanned the room. “Hope you’re de…”

Dingo’s eyebrows soared when he finally found Luka. The other teen was slumped over Juleka’s vanity, his chest bare and his face pressed against the tabletop. His skin was flushed, and his hair was sticking up every which way. Dingo popped his shades up on his head and walked over to the vanity, laying a hand on Luka’s shoulder. His skin was burning.

“You look like shit, mate,” he said. Luka groaned in response. “Bri’s heating up some soup for you, but if you’re not up for it I can tell her to put it away.”

“No food,” Luka moaned, his voice scratchy. “Puking. No food.”

“Oi, Bri! Nix the soup – he’s a toilet king!” Dingo called, and Luka winced at the volume.

“ _Ding,_ ” he rasped, bringing his arms up to hide his head. “Loud.”

“Damn, you are bad,” Dingo whistled. He put his hands under Luka’s armpits and hoisted him out of the chair. He staggered back a step as Luka, who was hit with a sudden sense of vertigo as the room spun at the sudden movement, fell against him. “Let’s get you back to… _what. The hell. Is that?”_

Luka blinked glassy eyes at him, but Dingo was too busy looking at Luka’s lower half. A shit-eating grin curled Dingo’s lips as he took in the black kilt Luka was wearing. He looked back at him, but Luka was just staring at him in confusion.

“…bwuh?” he asked, and Dingo gestured to the kilt. Luka groaned and tipped his head back against Dingo’s shoulder. “Too tired for pants.”

“That is _glorious_ ,” Dingo said. He nudged Luka’s head, making him wince. “Oi. Oi, Lu. Mate. Best bro. Please. _Can I try it on?”_

“Fuck you, Dingo,” Luka croaked, and he groaned again and tried to shove Dingo off of him as Dingo darted close to kiss his cheek.

“Maybe when you’re not contagious,” he said with a wink. Luka tried to shove him away again, but when the room spun again he slumped back against Dingo’s chest with a huff. “C’mon, Lu. Lemme try it on.”

“ _No_ , Ding,” he said. “Just…lemme sleep.”

“You sleep – I’m wearing the skirt!” Dingo crowed, and Luka yelped when Dingo grabbed at his waistband and yanked. A scuffle ensued, with Luka yelling – or trying to yell, what with most of his voice gone – at Dingo to _leave him the hell alone_ while Dingo tried to divest him of his kilt. Somehow, probably thanks to his fever and the spinning room, Luka ended up on the floor in his boxers, and he was groan-yelling after Dingo as his friend, in a truly impressive quick change, shed his jeans, slipped on the kilt, and ran back out to the common area.

Now, a few things happened next.

Dingo bolted from Luka’s cabin, running into the common area and cheering, “Bri, Bri, look at Luka’s skirt! Don’t I look _amazing_ in it?”

Brielle was glaring at him from the counter, where she was preparing some ginger tea and a plate of saltines, as he continued to twirl around the furniture and various boxes, crowing about how _swishy_ the kilt was. While he continued to be an ass, Luka emerged from his cabin, wearing nothing but his boxers and clutching his pounding head with both hands as he begged Dingo to _shut the hell up_ and _give him his kilt back, please_.

Now, that wasn’t really anything new. Dingo was usually up to some sort of shenanigans, and Luka didn’t really care about Dingo or Brielle seeing him half-dressed. They’d both seen him shirtless or in his boxers plenty of times, so he honestly didn’t think anything of it. However, right as he was stumbling into the common area, so was Juleka. That also wouldn’t have been bad on its own: Juleka was his baby sister, and he was ninety percent sure their ma had photos somewhere of shared baths from when they were kids. Juleka had seen him in just his boxers _and worse_. No big deal. She was family.

No, none of that was truly awful. He could live with that.

What he was having trouble living with – what made him look up from his hands and freeze in the center of the common area – was the very audible, familiar _squeak_ that came from his sister’s side. He looked up and locked wide, horrified eyes with one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who was frozen on the other side of the room. He barely registered Juleka’s smirk, as most of his focus was on the red-faced girl of his dreams, who at that moment was trying to keep her eyes on his and not…lower. It was adorable, actually, how her eyes kept twitching in her (progressively failing) attempt to _not check him out_ , and if he wasn’t so painfully aware of the fact that this was the least-clothed she’d ever seen him he might have smiled. He realized she was holding a box when Juleka took it from her and her hands slapped over her burning face.

“S-s-s-sorry!” she shriek-squeaked, and once the eye contact was broken he blinked in a slow, dazed way. “Juleka you said sick! Soup brought tea!”

Juleka snorted beside her and said, “I told her you were sick and her inner mom went into overdrive. She brought you a care package.”

“Ok,” he croaked, nodding even though his head felt like cotton-wrapped bricks were rattling around inside, “I’m still sleeping. This is a fever dream. I’m still in bed.”

“Nah, mate, it’s – oi!” Dingo yelped as Luka walked up to him, tugged his kilt down, and kicked Dingo’s feet out from under him. Luka quickly slipped the kilt back on, pausing once he was (somewhat) dressed to let his head stop spinning. Dingo grinned up at him from the floor. “Oh, this is better. _Love_ the view, Lu,”

Luka raised his middle finger at him.

“I hate you so much,” he croaked. “I’m going back to bed.”

Luka glanced back at Marinette, who was peeking at him from between her fingers, and tried to smile at her. She bit down on a smile of her own, a slightly manic giggle escaping her, and without another word he turned and trudged back into his cabin. Marinette jumped when Dingo tapped her foot with his own. He was still on the floor, grinning up at her as he held up a hand.

“Hi, I’m Dingo,” he said, wiggling his fingers in an invitation. She laughed – another nervous, manic cackle – and shook his hand. “You must be Ma-Ma-Marinette.”

**Author's Note:**

> Luka BOLTS back out, points a finger at Dingo, and goes “NO.” To Marinette: “Please don’t judge me by this idiot.” (Meanwhile, Brielle is throwing saltines at Ding and going, “Does that look like resting to you?!”


End file.
